


hell of a sunset

by fab_ia



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Gen, Spoilers for ep 60, hello it's crap and i didn't proofread, sunsets!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 23:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12995178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fab_ia/pseuds/fab_ia
Summary: "that's a hell of a sunset, isn't it?" he asks, because it's red and dripping with vibrancy and the promise of wrath.





	hell of a sunset

“that's a hell of a sunset, isn't it?” cutter asks, and his face is bathed in the red, red glow of the star, which casts shadows that look almost menacing. so _vibrant_. so much for yellow being the colour of cheer- this isn't cheer.

“yes sir,” rachel says. “it's _very_ red.”

red, in this instant, is the colour of wrath, of something terrifying, something that lurks inside the man who is a monster who is still, fundamentally, a man, something masked behind a soft voice and a smile. but here, now, cutter isn't smiling. not with his hands on the rail, his eyes hooded and dark.

in some way, it reminds him of a western. rachel isn't sure how.

he lifts a hand to the light as he talks of movies and people and so much more that rachel daren’t not listen to, flattens it so that his palm faces the glass and is bathed in that same red light, dark enough that it looks like blood- a trick of the light, of the stress, but it almost appears to be liquid that's stagnating and congealing on his skin. dripping down his arm. if it were real it might stain, turn his skin a ruby colour that he could never quite wash out.

he's quiet. he's speaking far quieter than usual. it's terrifying, it's scary, his personality is _gone_. he's like a blank slate, completely featureless and empty, emotionless, and it's a facade he's perfected over the years. clearly, he's a man with something in his mind- a plot? no. not a plot- he doesn't like the word.

cutter likes _people_. he likes figuring out how they work. this is why rachel's seen him with blood up to his elbows and a look of something beyond curiosity on his face- hell, he knows people better than something like a behavioural psychologist does, knows them inside and out, physically and mentally, the gory bits and the nitty-gritty, when someone gets down to it.

it's like there's a part of him missing, some hole in his heart that he's searching for the remedy to, but she's _there_ , sixty yards away and more vulnerable than most have ever known her. it's not romantic- you'd be a fool to think so. but still, somehow, he needs her like a plant needs the light, and it's the fact that quite so much has changed so quickly that's thrown him. he's not as in control as he wants.

“hell of a sunset,” he says again, almost to himself. his face is red. his eyes are dark and emotionless, empty as can be while still being there. rachel swallows.

 _yes_ , she thinks. _it is_. 


End file.
